


A better understanding

by BlueMoonHound



Series: John stories [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Depression, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Post-Sburb, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, poly ships, self-hate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-07-16 17:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7277443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMoonHound/pseuds/BlueMoonHound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is always there for you, and yet he doesn't seem to understand that you'll do the same things for him.</p><p><b>THIS FIC HAS BEEN DISCONTINUED. </b><br/>I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I know a lot of people love this work but I feel like I'm not in the right place to be writing it. <br/>It was originally supposed to be a 1-shot, so if you're new, just read the first chapter. :p</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trust

**Author's Note:**

> So I think I might continue this story! I don't know if it'll have much plot or if it'll just be a big mash of chronological johndavekat fics but there you are!
> 
> {{ Original notes: This is an unbeta'ed one shot. If you see any mistakes tell me! On the same note, if you want to prompt me go ahead, though there's no gurantee I'll write every suggestion I get.}}

John is always there for you. He's always the one who holds you when you wake up in the middle of the night from a bad dream, even though you're pretty sure Karkat is the insomniac. Sometimes you can hear Karkat downstairs as John pets your hair and tells you about the weather on the other side of the world.

John was the one who usually knew that you were having a panic attack-- sometimes he seemed to stumble into your work at the most arbitrary times of day, knowing something was wrong, to catch you hyperventilating against a wall. And then he would sit there and wait until you fell asleep in his arms, and he would carry you home.

Sometimes, you think it's strange. John works. But then again, he's a mailman, and you're a waiter-- your job keeps you in one building while his goes all over town. You didn't see John much, actually. Not when you aren't in trouble. You feel kinda bad about that. You and Karkat have shifts that overlap, so you tend to hang out in the daytime, while John's all over town.

You and Karks went out for ice cream, and now you're sitting on a stone wall, licking away. Karkat's is a lot bigger than yours but maybe he's trying to drown his troubles in troll alchohol or whatever. Sugar seems to be troll alchohol. Karkat didn't have nearly as much trouble holding himself together than you did. Not that you fall apart all that frequently, but you don't think you've seen Karkat have a breakdown since the game. He has infinite chill. This life on earth was probably too easy for him.

“You ever want to spend more time with John, karks?”

“Of course. We hardly ever see him. But right now we need money so we can't exactly do anything about it. It's fucking terrible though.” Karkat shifts in his seat so he's leaning against you more. “Why do you ask? I thought you knew that, Dave.”

You shrug. You take a big bite out of your ice cream and stare at the skyline. Can town is close to an ocean, but it's still a ways inland, surrounded by dense woods. You get the feeling that you're somewhere in what was once Asia, since it's so similar to New England (or at least Rose says it is) but the landmass is totally the wrong shape. John seems at home, but that's probably more because he lives in a suburb with his boyfriends and less because he's Asian and said suburb ended up on the Asian land mass.

You finish your cone and stare at the night sky. Clouds loom in the distance. It's probably going to rain. You don't feel like reaching into your time sense to find out for sure.

Out of nowhere, Karkat licks your face, and you jump. “Hey! What what that?” you giggle.

“There was ice cream on your face and I claimed it.”

“No, now you have to give it back.” You know he's probably hoping for this but you lean in and kiss him anyway. Karkat is so warm. You don't actually want the ice cream back of course.

“Get a room!” Someone shouts. You pull away from Karkat and look up. A rustblood troll is flipping you off.

No way, you think. This planet is ours. You slide one leg up onto the wall and the other into Karkat's lap so you're almost sitting on him.

“Daaaave!” he says through the kiss. “Dave, if you want to do that maybe we should get a fucking room.” Before you can protest Karkat has jumped off the wall and is walking back towards your car.

You head home in comfortable silence. Karkat drives, of course. He's much more comfortable piloting the one ton metal vehicle than you are, even though you'd probably be better at it. It's not like he's bad at it anyway.

“John must be home,” Karkat says, opening the door. “Not locked.”

You head into the livingroom. Your house is tidy and small. You have 2 bedrooms, but one is for guests; the three of you sleep on a king bed in the master suite. Well. When Karkat sleeps at all. It's often just you and John, and actually you're not even sure if John sleeps. But unlike Karkat you're 100% sure he tries.

“I'm gonna do the fucking dishes, okay?” Karkat says. “I don't see John over here so he must be upstairs.” He continues at a mutter. “Not that it fucking matters. John takes better care of his own ass than the two of us combined.”

You laugh. “That's for sure.” You've never seen John struggle since the game when he had all those silly breakdowns over. Gushers and shit like that. It was actually kinda funny, that Jazz. God, you love him. You're so glad that your crushes were okay with the human polyarmy which is just a huge mash of everyone ships everyone else everywhere-- though from what you've seen, Karkat and John tend to be more black and pale than red, while you're almost just red with Karks and pale with John. Or maybe you're reading too much into it. Fuck quadrants. You walk up the stairs.

You head into the bedroom, planning to get changed for work, and you almost trip over John. He's curled up on the floor. You take a step backwards and look down again.

He's hyperventilating, staring at his hands. You wonder how long he's been lying there. He's still wearing his mailman shit so it must have been a while. He's not one to sit around in scratchy white shorts.

“John are you alright?”

John flinches and scrambles to his feet, trembling. “S-sorry, sorry I didn't mean to-” You have to catch him before he falls over.

“Hey, whats wrong? John.” He won't look at you but you don't really want to force him to while he's having what you think is a panic attack? You're not 100% sure, you've never seen John like this. Did he do this sorta thing on the ship? What could have triggered it? He doesn't have a traumatic past the way you and Karkat do, unless you count the game.

John's crying. “please dont leave me Dave im sorry if I was an awful friend I don't try to be dumb im so sorry Dave, I'm sorry--”

“John. What. John, when did I ever say I was going to leave you? When was the last time I called you dumb? John?” He's crying into your chest.

He doesn't reply and you just leave him alone. There's no point in trying to force answers out of him while he's having a breakdown.

You sit there for maybe 10 minutes before John shoots to his feet and stumbles out of the room. You follow, of course. You're not sure he could handle stairs in this state. He doesn't go down the stairs, though. He hurries into the bathroom and starts puking into the toilet. It quickly devolves into dry heaving like he hasn't eaten anything at all today.

“Fuck, John, what the fuck,” You just hurry in after him and kneel down next to him, running a hand up and down his back. “If you were feeling bad you coulda fucking told me, you know. I'm your boyfriend.”

John just shakes his head. You run a hand over his shoulders and realize just how tense they are.

“Dave you're gonna be late for work, you fu-- Oh shit.” you hear behind you and turn a little to see Karkat standing in the open doorway to the bathroom. “Should I call them?” He's making a whole bunch of silly hand movements.

“Yeah, uh...” You look back at John, who looks like he wants to say something, but his body hasn't stopped convulsing yet and he's not quite capable. “We should probably stay home.”

Karkat leaves. A few minutes later John stops heaving and collapses across your lap. “noo, you should go to work. I'm fine, I'll be fine….”

“John. You're not fine. Whatever this is it sure as hell isn't fine. Hey. John. You shouldn't be afraid to ask for help, you know that, right?”

John shakes his head and stands up, rinsing his mouth out in the sink. “ssorry,” he whispers.

Karkat returns. “Hey, fuckface, what's wrong. Are you sick?”

“He had a breakdown,” you say.

“No, im fine, you guys shouldn't stay home just because of me, I'm alright.” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “I'm just. I'm tired, I'm gonna sleep now...”

You hear him collapse on the bed in the next room.

“Holy fuck, I thought he was okay. I thought he was miraculously fucking all right after the game, I'm such a dumbass, how could I have thought that. I wonder what triggered him or whatever.”

You shrug. “I found him curled up on the floor of our room trying to breathe. I don't think I've ever seen John like that. I mean. He had some breakdowns over fucking gushers or whatever at the beginning of the game but they were never full blown panic attacks.”

“We should. Uhm. See if he's okay.”

You nod and stand up.

John's lying face down on the bed, shaking with muffled sobs. You kick off your shoes and climb in.

“John can I touch you?”

He nods, more of a jerky uncontrolled up and down motion than anything. You pull him into your lap and run your hands through his hair. You pull the sheets out from under him and take off his shoes, climbing into bed.

“Come on karkat, it's been a long time since we all slept together. Might as well try.” You pull john's glasses off his face as Karkat slides under the covers.

You hold John until he stops crying. He's breathing softly, snuffling a little in his sleep. He looks so cute like this, small and vulnerable. Funny, you think, because of the three of you, John looks the most masculine and acts the least. He's the one wearing cotton miniskirts around the house and also the guy with constant stubble and the sort of square body.

You love John.

You get the feeling that Karkat has fallen asleep. His eyes are closed and he's just so much more relaxed then you usually see him. You pull John a little closer and let your own eyes fall closed.

 

You wake up around 7 in the morning, which is early for you but on the other hand you went to bed like 6 hours earlier than you usually do. John's still fast asleep, and god does he look tired. You pad downstairs and find Karkat at the stove, making blueberry pancakes. You get yourself some AJ and poke karkat between the shoulderblades.

“To whom do I owe the pleasure? Pancakes at 7 AM?”

“I woke up at 5 this morning, and these are for John, you fuckass. Back off.”

You chuckle a little. “Thanks.”

Karkat knows exactly what you mean. There are so many mutual understandings here. His face isn't the slightest bit confused. You get some lemonade for John and go back upstairs.

You sit on the edge of the bed and try to remember exactly how John holds you when you wake up from a nightmare. You put his head in your lap and pet his hair, putting your aj down on the side table. This is good.

John shifts around and wraps his arms around you, but doesn't wake up. You're struck by how weird this is for you. You can't usually let people touch you, and now you have two boyfriends. Sometimes you're even the middle spoon. It's just so…. Normal now.

“Mrnmfh.” John grumbles, waking up. God, you don't think you've ever seen John wake up before. He's adorable. “Dave?” he says, sitting up. “Oh geez, it's nearly seven thirty! I'm gonna be late for work!” He starts moving to get out of bed and you grab him.

“Nope.”

“What? Daaaaave, let me go!” He struggles, but you've got him and hes not going anywhere. You're 99% sure that if you got into a real fistfight with John he would win but not at seven in the morning when he's obviously still tired and you've got your arms around him.

“Sorry bro, no work today. You're staying home. Karkat's already called them. You're taking the day off.”

“What the fuck, Dave!” He pouts, slouching back into your arms. Then he frowns, staring at the hem of his pants. “Why.. am I wearing my work clothes?”

“You fell asleep in them yesterday afternoon.”

“What? I don't remember that! I… wait did you and Karkat go to work yesterday? Why don't I remember Yesterday.” He pauses for a moment. “OOOhshit. Shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry you had to watch that. Fuck. Fuck, I didn't want you guys to ever see me like that. Ever. Fuck. Fuck.” He looks so tired.

“Shush, gegus o kringlefucking malley John, It's not your fault we all have PTSD. Wow, why are you so worried about this? Karkat and I have both had breakdowns in front of you.” You run a hand through his hair.

“I'm supposed to be there for you. You both had terrible childhoods and I didn't and you shouldn't have to deal with more shit. I dunno. I just feel bad I guess.”

“John, when was the last time you had a breakdown? Before yesterday I mean.”

“Well.. I don't think I've ever had one that bad…”

“I didn't ask how bad it was.”

You feel John shrink against you. “Last Tuesday.”

“Holy _shit_ , John.”

“Usually it's just – Idk, it only lasts like an hour – and then I just get up and wash up and try not to act tired, and it's fine...”

“why'd you break down?”

“This time? Or…” He shrugs. He looks so _sad_. You want to hug him forever.

“Whatever you're comfortable telling me.”

“Usually.. just memories. But there was a kid in a black wolf mask at the last house I stopped at today… I might have stared. I don't exactly remember making it back to the station? I got home ok though… fuck. I coulda hurt someone.”

Karkat chooses that moment to burst through the door with a tray of blueberry pancakes. “HEY FUCKFACES. I MADE BREAKFAST.”

John bursts into a fit of giggles and you sip your neglected AJ. Choice. Karkat was perfect.

“Sit up, Johnny boi.” you slide a little away from him and he rights himself. Karkat plops the meal down in front of him and climbs onto the bed.

“So what the fuck were you talking about? It sounded serious.”

John glances at you.

“I'll tell you later,” you say to Karkat.

John relaxes visibly and starts wolfing down pancakes at an alarming rate. He finishes them and you reach over to the lemonade you left on the end table.

“I got a drink for you too.”

“Thanks!”

He finishes the lemonade and sighs. Then he laughs, sounding tired again. “Wow, I am such a bag of derps, aren't I.”

 You laugh. "Yea. You are."


	2. Dumb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a hole in your chest.
> 
> Two, if you count the ghost of Jack Noir's sword.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's from John's POV! I actually have chapter 3 done as well.  
> Thanks to a few people for pointing out some mistakes

There's a hole in your chest.

People at work had noticed your breakdown. The first thing calling your attention as you walk into the workroom is how many looks you get. Yeah. They definitely noticed. You smile, and go to talk to your boss.

“Ma'am?” You're nervous. You're sure it shows. You're doing that thing where you almost pull a hammer from your strifedeck. Of course, in this universe, sylladexes aren't really common. You stuck a common use hammer in your deck as soon as you realized you could pull Zillyhoo out on accident.

“Hmm?” Your boss is a nice woman with deep brown eyes. She smiles at you.

“About the other day… uh… I have severe PTSD, I didn't-- uhm--” You're stammering and it's making you more antsy. Fuck.

“It's okay, John. Are you okay? It probably wasn't safe to be driving like that.”

“I'm fine, thanks. Heh. I made it home just fine and my car's in one piece.” Your hand scritches through your hair and you realize you look like a complete idiot. You giggle a little nervously.

“Just, if it happens again try calling someone from your mail car instead of driving it back. Okay? It's not like you didn't finish your route, and you don't have a record.” She mutters something about severe.

You don't act like you have severe PTSD but most people who have PTSD don't have triggers like black wolves and harlequins, being physically stabbed, the specific number 413, and cake. That's only a lie in that you've only ever met people who probably have odd triggers and you have nothing to base that on. The mention of Betty Crocker can cause you a breakdown too, probably. No one's brought in any pastries that you've stuck around to hear about so you're probably good. “Yeah, I have unusual triggers. Uhm. So what's the mail today. You know.”

Work goes normally. You fall back into your normal schedule, delivering mail from 8 to 5. Your paycheck isn't huge, but starting on nothing with Dave and Karkat your savings are adding up. Eventually, you might even be able to settle for a smaller job, something that isn't so consuming. You can pay off the house and alchemize food for a while so you don't starve putting everything into your bank accounts. You can spend some time with Dave and Karkat. Technically, they both work part time, but 5 hours a day isn't all that part time-y. Dave works more like four, technically, but its a restaurant and he closes, so it's often a lot more than that.

You pull into your drive at 5:15 and let a breeze flip through your hair, curling around you. Before and during the game, wind was just a thing, something to be controlled. But now it treats you like you're its mom, or maybe you're its son. Its dancestor. You giggle.

It wasn't the wind itself that followed you before the game, not the way Dave could timestop pregame and Jade was already safe around radiation. You were stuck, you felt stuck, so many things tired or bored you. Class bored you. You got poor grades. You socialized, but you were a target for bullies because you seemed simple. You never fought back. You never let them get to you-- at least not right away.

That was your training, that's why you could do it in the game. Just another bully. Just another bully.

You never had friends in school, so when you made friends online, it was hard for you to believe they would stick around. They did. They never stopped teasing you for seeming so naieve. That started to creep its way in too, in with the bullies. And the harlequins your dad bought, one day, mirroring your odd, repeated nightmares…

During the game, you were freed from those restraints. Of course, you were bogged down by other things. But…

This life isn't free. But you're somehow ok with that now, because it's secure and happy and comfortable, and you don't feel like you need to be free again, yet. You could be free, if you wanted to be, and that's what makes you ok with it you guess. You don't really want to leave Dave and Karkat behind just to be free again.

You go inside. Your breath is becoming short again with all that thinking. Thinking about things you shouldn't think about. You told Dave that it was usually just the memories, but sometimes it was nightmares. You would wake up at 2 AM to some terrible dream and go into the guest bedroom to cry. You made sure there were no markers in red, green or violet in your bedroom. You knew that Dave or Karkat would insist on cleaning the walls if you wrote on them.

You're proud of them. Karkat hasn't had a breakdown since a month after the game. Dave is sleeping better. He doesn't draw his sword when he's startled anymore. He still cries, he still has problems, but he's certainly more capable now. He has coping mechanisms that are much better than yours.

You've caught your breath. You prod your bad history a little farther into the back of your mind and coat it with thoughts of Dave and Karkat and how wonderful things are becoming. You stretch, sigh, walk up the stairs.

Life continues as usual.

 

In the following weeks, the days grow warmer and March begins to fade. You think Dave might be giving you worried looks as the winter ends in earnest. You ask them not to startle you on April first. They tell you it's unprofessional and for once in your life you're glad that no one's making jokes.

On the fourth, Dave invites you to the movies. He skips work. You and Dave find out which of the theatre halls Karkat works in. You decide to watch movies in his hall for his whole shift. There are only two showing in that hall between 6:30 and 12 AM: Finding Dory and some love flick you've never heard of but you're sure Karkat has already watched.

You stand in the consessions line for a while. Dave keeps glancing at you.  
“What?”

“You look sad.”

You shuffle your feet. “m not sad.”

“Hey.”

You glance at him. “Yeah?”

“You remember what I said? If anything happens, you should tell someone. Me n Karkat will listen to you.” He puts a hand on your shoulder. You smile.

Baby Dory is adorable. You fucking love this movie just a few scenes in. You can feel Dave rolling his eyes next to you, and you're sure you're being completely traditional-egbert right now. You might have cried a little at the end. That part's fuzzy. You're pretty sure kids movies aren't this enrapturing for most people your age.

The second movie is utter cheese. Dave's enjoying his irony shit. Whispers to you about all the dumb great things happening in the movie. At the very end, there's a scene where the two characters kiss. Just as they're leaning in, you throw your arm over Dave's shoulder and mimic the couple onscreen.

It's a long kiss.

For a second your heart is going too fast. You can't believe you're kissing Dave Strider. He's… well he's the longest crush you've ever had. You love him so, so much. You always thought he disliked you. You were never cool. You still aren't cool. You're just some _John_.

Slow. _Dumb_.

You feel like a ton of bricks have been dropped on top of you. This is just more fuel for the fires of your nightmares. You sigh out of the kiss and smile at Dave. You suddenly want to cry. You're stupid. You're such a late bloomer that you didn't learn how to empathize until you were 18 fucking years old. But you keep the light in your eyes.

For Dave. And Karkat. You laugh at Dave's jokes on your way out of the theatre and you drive him home. The cry-like feeling doesn't go away.

You feel like lead and you're dead tired, but you have a feeling you won't be sleeping much tonight. Not unless you want the old nightmares back.

It's Thursday. You've only got two more workdays, and then you can do all the sleeping you want. No one's ever home but you on Sundays. That's your day off. Saturday is Dave's day off, and you don't even know what Karkat does. Does… he work all week? You've seen him stay home on random weekdays before, but he always has something else to do. Hm. You should talk to him about that. If he does work all week, you need to give him a _conversation_. His health is important to you and you can't let him throw it down the drain.

You nudge out of your jeans and climb into a pair of ratty sweatpants and a tee you have set aside for sleeping. You toe the hood of your god tier farther into the closet. Dave wore his to bed for a while after the game, but Karkat had a problem with that after a while, so he stopped. You had a problem with it too, but you have always had trouble vocalizing your problems.

 _Because when you vocalize your problems, you little shit, you get punished_ , says a little part of your brain. Oh god that's an old voice. You laugh a little.

“What's so funny?”

You jump about a mile and pull out your hammer in surprise. Dave isn't wearing his glasses and you know if he had them on he wouldn't look surprised besides a slight pulling at the side of his mouth. With them off, his eyes widen. You take a deep breath and put away the silly little hammer, trying to calm down. You hold your breath. Your heart is beating too fast. You wait for Dave to react.

“Dude you're floating.”

“S-sorry.”

“let's uh. Let's go to sleep.”

“Yeah.”

You make sure your feet are on the ground as he gets changed.

You climb into bed after him. He's running a hand through your hair again. You're reminded of a few weeks ago when you broke down and he walked in on you. Your breath catches on something.

“Hey, it's ok. I did that for years. Gegus dick, Egbert. Why you gotta be so fussy about these things.”

You don't respond. Your heart has slowed down and the room is getting fuzzy. You're so so tired. It's been ages since you got a good sleep. Dave is saying something but you just pull him closer and fall asleep with him in your arms.

 

You dream.

It's raining. Your feet are bare, wet from the grass. You look around you and see you're in a graveyard. In the distance, you see a group of people dressed in black. You begin to move toward them. There's something off about them. Every part of you is screaming to turn away. But you keep walking.

Your heart is pounding in your chest by the time you reach the mourners. You peer through them, trying to determine who they are mourning, and you see the corpse of your dad.

Not cleaned up, even. Eyes wide, staring like when you found him, blood on his hands and face. You shudder.

“Rest in Peace,” says one of the mourners. You turn to look at them.

You realize what's so off about them. Every single one wears a white or black wolf mask… you reach to the closest mourner, and pull off their mask. Your breath catches in your throat when you see Rose underneath. She smiles at you, and then she falls backwards, dead just like your father, no longer clothed in black but rather her god tier, a puncture wound in her chest. The imprint of heroic sears behind your eyes. You turn away, and reach up, and pull off the mask of another mourner, this one white.

Terezi, a red cloth over her eyes, stab wounds through her chest, wearing Jade's goddamn bright red shoes. You stumble back as the body falls over, not sure if you're even breathing at all anymore. Despite yourself, you reach for another mask.

This time, the mask won't move. Black robes fall away and Jack snarls at you, you're frozen in place – you feel his knife puncture your ribcage--

And then it's not Jack, but rather Jade, grimbark Jade. And she's smiling at you.

“Everybody's dead, John,” she says. Your chest hurts but your body refuses to just die. You gag.

She has a gun. “You're dead, John. Don't you remember? You blew up in my fucking _face_.” She snarls. Her ears fall backwards on her head. You shudder. Blood's starting to run down your hands now. There's a large stain on the grass.

She prods you with the gun. “Go on, John. Write it. Everybody's dead, John. Write it on the tombstone.”

You look at the tombstone in front of you. Some of the names are mostly unfamiliar. Who was the Wayward Vagabond? You don't know if you met them. Others, however, were so present. Dave Strider. Roxy Lalonde. Karkat Vantas. There's a bright green marker sitting on top of the tombstone. You reach for it with trembling hands. The cap falls onto the grass because you lack the dexterity to turn the marker around and stick it on the back. You press it to the stone.

'EVERYBODY'S DEAD'

“Put your own name, John, so you don't forget, We're telling you. We don't need to remember, the rest of us aren't dumb. You're the stupid one here. Go on. Put your name.”

'EVERYBODY'S DEAD, JOHN.' You almost drop the marker.

“Very good John.” The voice behind you changes. “I'm proud of you, son.”

You turn around, but it's not your dad, its a harlequin doll, and your vision goes all fuzzy and--

 

It's late. Early. You're glad it was a green pen, not something that leaks a lot, because it's broken in your hand. You are shaking. You know if anyone could see it would be visible.

Pangs of sharp pain spark in your brain and you gasp. Fuck. You hadn't been breathing. You lean against the wall. Nothing is quite sticking to reality very well. It had been a really long time since you had a dream like that. When you went god tier, you inherited your dreamself's memories. All the dreams.

Now you're having trouble breathing. You extricate yourself from between Dave and Karkat-- both, miraculously, still asleep-- and hurry to the bathroom. You're feeling a little sick. You throw away the broken green marker and wash ink off your hands. Then you pull off your shirt, running a hand over the scar on your chest. It's short, thin, and vertical, right in the separation between your ribs. Jack's sword had entered through the back, though. He had impeccable aim.

Still does. Fuck. He's still alive. You always remember that at the worst possible times. Your vision is starting to tunnel. You slide down the bathroom wall and put your head between your knees.

In. Out. Breathe. You have to go back to bed eventually. You're not allowed to pass out.

_You're not allowed to pass out, you fucker. People rely on you. You needa be there for them. Get the fuck up. Sit the fuck up. Snap out of it. Stop wallowing in your own worthless misery._

You take a deep, shuddering breath and hold it for five seconds. Then you let it out, slowly. And get up. And go downstairs to find some paper or something to cover the text on the wall. You're gonna need like 4 sheets of paper to cover it. You groan quietly and fetch tape.

You do a hasty job of covering up the lettering and slide back into bed. You're utterly exhausted, but you know you can't fall asleep at this point, so you're just stuck alone in your own thoughts.

You're terrible. You can't believe you just let yourself do that. You should be able to stop them now, stop the panic, you shouldn't _feel_ it anymore – _you have years of practice_ – Dave and Karkat _need_ you –

Forget that it's been nearly six years since you took your meds. You shouldn't need medication. God tier should have healed you.

You decide to text Rose.

– EctoBiologist began pestering TentacleTherapist! –

EB: rose, are you awake?  
EB: I cant sleep  
TT: I just so happen to be awake. It's very early in the morning, John, did you try to sleep?  
EB: of course I tried!  
EB: I just want a distraction I guess. Im bored :B  
TT: I don't see how I can help you.  
EB: dont worry rose, youre doing a great job!  
TT: So, why are you having trouble sleeping? Couldn't you talk to Karkat or Dave about this?  
EB: Theyre both asleep, rose.  
EB: and I dont really want to talk about why I cant sleep, I guess. This is really stupid.  
TT: John, you never change. You are the most articulate human being ever to live.

 She's doing the sarcasm thing. Your heart clenches.

TT: John?  
EB: Im here. Yeah, heh. I guess youre right. Im dumb. Im sorry.  
TT: Wow, you actually interpreted sarcasm. A whole new level of intelligence. I apologize, usually that kind of thing goes right over your head.

It never has.

EB: …. well, im gonna try and sleep now! See you later rose :B  
TT: Before you go. What are you doing on the thirteenth?  
EB: uhm, the thirteenth? Why would I be doing anything on the thirteenth?

Something tugs in your brain but you can tell it's a _bad_ something so you push it away.

TT: Nothing, I suppose. Goodnight, John.  
EB: night!

– EctoBiologist ceased pestering TentacleTherapist! –

You sigh and put the phone back down.

Karkat whimpers in his sleep and you pull him closer. Run your hand through his hair. It's not as soft as Dave's hair, of course, but it's still comforting. You focus on forgetting.

You wonder how many of your friends think that sort of thing goes right over your head. You stumbled a little there, by letting Rose see through your facade. You figure it'll be okay, though. Rose is smart, but she's been in the dark for years.

You run a finger along the base of Karkat's horn once, feeling him relax completely. You wonder how that feels in a dream. No one ever sits there and comforts you while you're asleep, though. You doubt you'll ever know. Also, you don't have horns. Hehe. You relax too, just focusing on comforting your sleeping boyfriend. Your dream isn't forgotten, but it's in the past. It'll probably haunt you later but you're fine for now.

Somehow, you fall back asleep, your hand still in Karkat's hair.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I can get more done for next week so we can have some sort of schedule for these next few chapters anyway. Hope you enjoyed the dream, i actually wrote it for a different fanfic, which I discarded.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> My tumblr is bluemoonhound.tumblr.com!


	3. Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EB: oh holy shickles I see it ok this is a problem typhoon   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to put an intermission between these two chapters but I realized that because they're 1 dialouge that I split in two, it's safer to put the intermission at the end of them instead of in the middle. ::))

You wake up at 5 AM. Fortunately, you don't remember your dream. Your heart is going fast, so you're sure it wasn't pleasant.

The hole in your chest throbs once, painfully, and you groan. Turning over, your hand pulls out of Karkat's hair. You're surprised he's still asleep. Dave looks like he's having a bad dream. His eyebrows are forced together and his eyes a little clenched. You pull him against you and run your hand through his hair, sliding into an upright position.

You're glad they're getting sleep. It makes your chest feel better. Warmer. Not quite whole, still, but you don't think you'll ever be whole.

You focus on breathing. Deep, good breaths. In and out. Your mind wanders anyway, because you're fucking terrible at meditation. Lol.

You sometimes wonder why you can't tell your friends your problems. But you know why. You remember your conversation with Rose earlier. You didn't mean to slip like that, and now another brick in your wall has fallen out for her to peer through. You made Dave and Karkat promise not to tell her that you had broken down. You trust them with a lot but… you're worried they might have told her anyway.

Dave whimpers and shifts. You slide hands down to his tense shoulders and rub little circles into his back. His chest is smooshed against your legs, which is a little awkward, but whatever.

You remember before the game. Dad was never home. Kids at school were mean. You were afraid your friends would leave you (because you're a terrible person. Because you're useless.) You pretended nothing was wrong. That's what the wall was for. It's protection, so you could live well. 

And now? Now you drop the fucking wall? You're not being beaten up in hallways anymore. There is a soft boy hugging your leg right now. You have a full time job, you're an adult, you live in a comfortable suburb in a house you (indirectly) designed yourself. (You and Jade might just have cut away the top portions of your old house and plopped it down before the suburb was made around it. Just maybe.)

You disgust yourself.

Dave lets out a little gasp (you thank the universe that he doesn't shout this time, since Karkat is still asleep) and wakes up pressed against your leg. You rub his back and pet his hair and whisper.

“Shush. It's okay.”

Dave takes a moment to stop shaking and catch his breath. Then he peeks at you.

“Fuck.” It's hoarse, like he's either struggling with his volume or to speak at all.

“What was it? Do you want to talk about it?”

Dave sits up and leans against you. “No.”

Dave used to be super stiff when he woke up in the middle of the night, trying to disguise his emotions like he had to in front of Bro. He used to hate it when you touched him. But after a while he grew comfortable with the idea that he was sleeping in the same bed as you and you were capable of making him feel better. He started to let you touch him. At first, he still woke up stiff, even when you tried to calm him out of that state. Now, he slumped across your chest like a thick, human blanket without any consideration of his 'strider cool'. Six in the fucking morning was no time to be worrying about Strider cool.

Dave groans and tries to curl around you. The headboard is seriously in the way of this endeavor. Not to mention gravity. And a bunch of other things.

“You alright?”

“Heh, just. Cramps you know.” He's got his face under control now. (You would try to tell him that he can lower that part of his coolkid guise too. But you have your own facade to deal with, and you understand. It's his choice however open he chooses to be.)

“want me to get you some tea or something? Or some meds?”

“That'd be nice, yeah.” Dave slumps back on the pillow with a little grimace on your face as you shimmy out of the covers and climb over him. You put some water on to boil and fetch Midol from the bathroom cabinet. You just take the whole bottle up since your hands a sweating a little and you don't know how much that might fuck with the pills. They're not exactly pills that you yourself have ever had to take. 1

Dave dry-swallows the pills like the insane man he is and then sips the tea like he's afraid it's going to be too hot. You go to the closet and start looking for your work clothes, since you're going to have to leave soon anyway.

“Might as well take a shower,” you say. “Are you going to sleep more?”

“If I can. I'll see ya after work bro.” Dave drinks the rest of the tea really fast and then shimmies towards Karkat like some sort of magnet. You chuckle and leave the room with your uniform, closing the shades before you go.

 

You have time to make yourself a proper breakfast before work today. You're tired and it's starting to weigh on you, but a big breakfast helps you work around that. _Maybe that's why you're so fucking fat_ , a little corner of your brain whispers. Except you know what it's like to be actually fat, and this is not particularly heavy-- Yeah, you have some chub, but it's mostly just padding over your rediculous amount of muscle from the game. You had been extremely skinny in the game near the end, because you had starved yourself a little, but you're happier with food.

No cake.

The first time you encountered cake postgame you could tell that you were going to have some sort of breakdown if you didn't get the fuck out of there. That's part of why you don't interact with Dad anymore. It reminds you of _your_ dad, who didn't get reincarnated because he wasn't an ectobaby.

You eat your eggs and toast and head out. You don't need to be thinking about Dad right now.

 

You slide through to the back of the post office and into the workroom. There's no back entrance or you would use it, not that it would be necessary to do so, since the bank didn't open for another hour to the public.

One of your coworkers, Jeanne, looks up. She was one of the extroverted ones you ended up talking with at the beginning and end of your shifts. They were nice people and you appreciated all of them very much. You're so glad you work here. “Hey John! How are you?”

“Oh I'm good, thanks! You?”

“Doing alright, you know. So I heard your birthday is coming up. Anything you want?”

“O-oh is it?” You giggle and find yourself laying against the wall. “N-n-no I don't want anything, thanks!” Your head hurts. No no no no non nononono no don't think about that. You take a deep, shuddering breath and try to resolve your calm. It was an innocent question.

“Oh is that not a good thing to ask you about? Jesus John, what happened to you?” She takes a worried step forward.

“No it's fine, I'm fine.” you paste a grin on your face and rub your head. You take another deep breath – slow down, slow slow slow – and push yourself away from the wall. “Sorry. I didn't mean to react that way.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! Yeah.” Your smile is becoming a little more authentic. “I'm gonna go get my stuff and...” you make a kinda random arm motion.

“...okay.” she says, smiling at you like you're a kid who looked scared. It makes you even more uncomfortable. Yeah, you're a little young for the service, but you're 18. You feel a little guilty because you got in partly because you're a god but whatever. No one knows that but you and your boss. You wonder what she thinks a god can get PTSD from.

 

When you get home you're thinking about the encounter at work.

“Sup, John?” Dave asks, taking a deep drink out of a coffee mug. Karkat finishes a dish and turns to look you up and down. You notice that the bags under his eyes have lessened a little.

“Uh. They finally figured out when my birthday is.”

“Shit, are you alright? What happened--” Dave goes to get up and you wave a hand at him.

“I'm fine, I'm just… I'm fine.” You shuffle a little. “It was before work. I would have come home if I thought I couldn't handle it.” You know that's not true. You're not entirely sure how untrue it is.

“Look, dumbass, I can tell you still have a wall up." Karkat turns around. "I'm not saying I don't have a wall. But I think you know what I mean. I'm fucking honest about it. There's something you're still not telling us. You can't keep hiding.”

You wince a little. 

You're afraid he's right.

 

The sun is too hot. Even in your cab, you feel like you're being assaulted. It's not that you're not used to the sun, it's just you never liked the sun much. At least 'thanks for playing' doesn't hover teasingly next to it anymore, for all you gods to see. You grab another street's worth of papers and start walking up the street. You're halfway back down and wishing Dirk had the forethought to make sure this planet had sunblock when your phone bings. Pesterchum. That means it has to be important – only the gods have pesterchum. (Or trollian. There are 24 of them who don't have pesterchum you suppose. But that makes the same noise.)

You finish the street and pull your phone from your pocket.

 

\--TentacleTherapist began pestering EctoBiologist!\--

TT: John, we need your help.

You groan. Rose. You remember where your last conversation with Rose left off. You slump back against your chair.

EB: roooooooooose, im at work! What could possibly be so important that you have to pester me in the middle of my shift?  
TT: You're at work?  
EB: I work six days a week! Yea! I have work!  
TT: Calm down. I didn't intend to interrupt your  
TT: Mailing.

Did she just look up what you do? You groan.

EB: what do you want then  
TT: There is a very large weather system moving through. Even in a place as sturdy as this, it could flatten us. It's definitely a high grade hurricane. _High_ grade.

You reach out and flinch when you can already sense the edgy tendrils of a fucking enormous storm on the corners of your windy thing. You probe a little farther, careful not to tap into your teleportation. It would be really hard to explain if someone saw you turn into wind.

EB: oh holy shickles I see it ok this is a problem typhoon  
TT: Think you can deal with it?  
EB: I did worse in the game.  
TT: While this is true, I didn't mean if you were physically capable of doing it.  
EB: im fine! I said I can do it.  
TT: Keep me posted and try to get it done tonight.  
EB: Of course!

\--EctoBiologist ceased pestering TentacleTherapist! –

You try to focus on working, but now that you're aware of it, the huge mass of stormclouds migrating through can town has the center of your attention. The first thing you notice as you prod around its edges is it doesn't feel real. Not that it feels.. fake, per se, just like someone gave it steroids. Wind steroids. You giggle.

“Is everything all right, John?”

You turn around. Your boss is watching you. You had been organizing some papers and she mush have heard you giggle.

“O-oh! Yeah everything's fine… just have some things to deal with later and I've been kinda distracted. Sorry.”

“You know when I hired you I was unsure about your reliability, but you have the second best attendance of all of us, including me.” She chuckles. “When you told me you were one of the Gods I thought you would have a lot more to do.”

“Heh.” You slide away a folder. “I um, yeah. Speaking of that, I think I'll still be here? But I might not be in tomorrow. You can expect rain.”

She pauses for a moment. Tilts her head. Glances out the window. “Are you a weather god?”

You stare at the back of your hand for a moment. Then you sigh. “Heh. That depends, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

You can't stop a stray wind from slipping into the window and curling around you. You're pretty sure she notices. “I. Heh. I have more than just breath powers.”

 

_You feel like you're being tugged through space-time. Your breath is gone, both literal and figurative. For a moment, you hover in a scream, but then the feeling leaves, and reality returns. You don't let yourself slump from the pain. Your friends don't need to know what you're feeling. Your problems should rest on your shoulders.  
You smile at Roxy. The world starts to fold together, now. LOWAS is the largest object you've ever teleported. You don't stop, though. You're pretty sure your entire body has been ripped in two. But when you reform, you pretend the pain didn't exist. You're pretty sure Roxy notices how tense you are, but you're good at hiding it. _

_You seem to know what to do. You're not sure if that's because you're the 'leader', but you hope not. You hope this isn't some twisted SBURB power you didn't ask for. You hope that you can just be as normal as the rest of them. But it's a silly hope-- you're already fucked, you already have juju powers, and every inch of your skin itches. Sometimes your heart will just heave in your chest and you have to dismiss yourself, go upstairs and close the bathroom door. If it's especially bad you'll lock it. Sometimes there's a reason. Other times it's just… memories. Or maybe your powers. Or the feeling that you're supposed to guide them, but you could never do that. You're no leader. You're the most fucking stupid human being in the new universe._

_Your mind screams._

“John?”

You jump a little, and flinch out of your memories. “Sorry, just got lost in thought there.” You throw her a grin but you think she can see the pain through the expression.

You wonder what she thinks about you. She knows you're a god, you suppose that might actually not helped in the hiring process, unless it was fear that got you in the job. You hope it wasn't fear. For a second, you think you're going to have another panic attack, but then you have it under control.

“Do I scare you?” you ask.

“What? Of course not!” She sounds affronted. “Why would I be afraid of you?”

“Well… you made it sound like me being godly made me less trustworthy… and I am immortal, powerful and probably dangerous… which means...” Your shoulders slump. “I just don't see why you hired me, is all.”

“You're just so positive, I don't know. It was nice talking to you and I was a little fascinated by your godliness, I'll admit, but if you weren't a god I probably would have hired you anyway. You're just a nice kid, John.” She pauses. “You should go home. Your shift's been over for half an hour. You have a boyfriend, right?”

“Two.”

She looks a little surprised.

“I'm not going to explain.”

“Is-- are they gods too?”

“That's my personal life.”

“Oh… I'm sorry.”

“Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, I hope! Have a nice day, Mrs. Jones.”

“You too, John. See you tomorrow.”

 

“You want some tea before you start?” Jake, Roxy, Rose, Sollux and Eridan came along for the show.

You consider Sollux and Eridan for a moment. It'd been ages since you saw them-- since they'd been resurrected, really. Sollux is wearing a croptop and his gray jeans. He's gained back some weight since the game. Apparently, he was chubby before it started, kinda like you, but he's much shorter than you are and seems to put on weight easier. Eridan, on the other hand, is skin and bone, about your height, and wearing a pale violet dress which falls to his knees. You asked him if he was transfeminine once and he looked confused. Sollux is trans, though, he told you he was a demiboy. The two used to be out of sorts or black-dating or something but they're obviously red now.

“Sure,” you tell Jake. He pours you a cup and you drink it fast. You never really liked the taste of tea.

“John, if you don't think you can handle this, we can call in Rufioh. He's not as powerful, but with Jake here, I think he could get the job done.” Rose shifts like she's actually concerned. It's hard to tell, when she gets like this, whether she's being sincere or sarcastic. Besides her words and slightly tense posture, Rose is as impeccable as always. She must not be _that_ worried.

“I'm fine! I just haven't done this in a while, is all.” You square your shoulders, grab a (protesting) Karkat, and fly up to the roof. You trust Rose, Roxy, Dave or Jake to manage the other not-god tiers present. Or Sollux, you consider, since he can fly too. You walk outside and fly up to the roof. The others aren't far behind (and yeah, Sollux is carrying Eridan.)

It feels weird doing this with an audience. You haven't really been one for showing off, and you certainly never did any funny little magic trick shows for kids like Jade does. That's her job, she makes a fuck ton of money just going around to theatres flashing shit around with her magic. You probably could have done the same thing with electricity or something, but you just weren't into it.

You take a deep breath and sit cross legged on the peak of the roof.

Rose is behind you. “I don't forsee any problems, but there are a lot of powerful gods here for a reason. Roxy can try to eradicate the storm, or Eridan destroy it, should you fail. I don't anticipate that outcome, however. Carry on.”

You glance back at Dave and Karkat. “Are you two going to work?”

“Not tonight. Figured you might like two more sets of eyes staring at you while you did magic.”

“That's nice.” you can't keep the sarcasm out of your voice. You're too nervous.

“Oh did you master sarcasm? That's news to me!” Roxy giggled. “I thought you were a derp.”

You don't say anything. You just turn back to your task.

You sink into your windy sense. The storm is very close now-- you can taste it, nearly on the inner ring of your power circle (which grew quite large once you reached the alpha session). You reach out to the center.

Wrongwrongwrongwrong _wrong_ \--

You shush the upset breeze and give the eye of the storm a gentle, purposeful shove away from can town.

It convulses, whips back against your powers, sends you reeling. You shock back into your body and give a gasp.

“You alright?” Rose has a hand on your shoulder. That isn't her voice, though. You shake your head a little to clear it, and look around. Jake's sitting on your other side, looking a little concerned.

“I'm fine, but this storm is going to take a little wrestling with. Rose, I'd suggest you take your hand off my shoulder. Unless you want to get transported into the center of a fucking behemoth hurricane, that is.” You giggle. Then your eyebrows crease together, despite your conviction. “Yeah, uh. This storm isn't normal. The breeze was _scared_.”

“How can a breeze be scared?” Dave snickers.

“Shut up, I'm their god. I can feel their emotions.”

“oh- kay?”

You turn back to the wind. Sink back into the wind. This time, you reach the eye of the storm and try to turn it. You feel like you're on Jupiter, in the great red eye. (It's the biggest storm you've ever seen, god. It must be the size of India. You're scared.) You tug at it and wrap your mind around it and urge it to turn away.

It doesn't budge.

You feel the moment your body dissipates into wind from the stress of trying to move the windstorm. Minutes pass. Your head starts to ache from effort. Has it really been so long since you used your powers that you can't turn one hurricane aside? You wiped the clouds off an entire planet once and now you can't do this. You shove every last bit of energy and power (except the juju one, oh god) into the storm and finally, like a creaking metal wall, it starts to turn aside.

You keep pushing. You have no idea how much pain you're going to be in when you're back in a physical form, but if wind could ache, you would be aching. You feel like the small fish trying to guide the whole school when none of them want to follow. Several times, you slide out of the grasp of the hurricane and have to rush back in. Entering a hurricane is harder than leaving it, when you're a breeze. Finally, the hurricane is mostly off track, so the edges pass over can town but it'll be nothing more than a few fallen trash cans. You slide out of the storm.

Now it's taking energy to stay wind. You wonder, for a moment, what would happen if you let the little tendrils which are your being fall apart. Would people find pieces of you scattered all over the place? Gross. You make your way back to the roof. Your skin prickles as you become physical again.

You're vaguely aware of someone saying your name. You lean against a body. You shake your head, trying to reorient yourself. Focus on the steps. Up the steps. Front door. Someone else opens it and you walk inside.

You find yourself staring at a calendar.

You start to giggle.

The room comes into sharp clarity, and you reel. Everyone's staring at you. Your brain is full of static. You can't breathe. Or maybe you're breathing too hard. You can't tell.

You're pretty sure you pass out.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1:Note that though I am AFAB I have never encountered Midol in my life since I tend to lean towards the apothecary route in these things and also have a high pain tolerance.
> 
> Note that polyarmy isn't as much of a nono in this world as in our world. Just like homosexuality isn't. Because trolls.
> 
>  


	4. Intermission 1: Gog Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade finds herself in some interesting situations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Different POV-- And in a flashback! We probably won't be seeing this perspective too often. Enjoy!

John's acting weird. You think he's sick.

It's been a month since you guys broke the fourth wall. You suppose loneliness might have something to do with it, you miss your friends too. But you're pretty sure that would have shown sooner. John's been curled up under his bed for the past 3 days and you're pretty sure he hasn't eaten anything. You put food by his door yesterday evening and when you went to check on him earlier today he was still lying in the same position on his bed and the food was still on the floor.

You'll leave it though. You've had those weeks. Maybe it's just a side-effect of living in the middle of a tropical island on your own, but you like to be left alone when you're sick. If he doesn't come out tomorrow, you'll bug him.

You play videogames with Davesprite and John fades from your mind. Davesprite's really good at videogames. You're not sure if that's the Dave side or the Sprite side, since he's kinda a game construct and must know a lot about that. But it's really nice to play with him because there were some co-op games in John's house and it isn't hard to win a game with him (more time for story!!!) and you just really enjoy it.

Sometimes Davesprite is too nice to you. He probably thinks it's a lot of effort to keep the ship going (It's really not! It's no trouble at all! You barely use a quarter of your abilities to do it and it takes almost NO focus.)

“Where's John?” It's been a few hours, you and Davesprite have finished a whole runthrough of the videogame you were playing. John had completely slipped your mind.

“He's in his room. I think he's sleeping.”

“For the last 3 days? He's been missing a while, Jade.”

“I think he's sick. He's been in there for a while.”

“Jade, I've known John since he was like 9 years old and I don't think hes ever been sick. Like, at all.”

“There's a first time for everything!” You smile at him.

“Being sick doesn't work that way,” Davesprite says. “I mean, unless he's caught some magic space bug. But I doubt it. We should ask him what's up.”

“I wasn't gonna bug him till tomorrow, but if you want to!” You smile. Your mistake probably has something to do with being raised on an island with a dog. That's what most of your mistakes have to do with, when it boils down to it. But Dave and Rose and Jake all seemed to have the same problem sometimes. Not that you could tell anyone about Jake yet!! He's kinda a special case. You shouldn't even know he exists!

You get up and jump planets. You don't really bother resizing yourself, because you're just gonna need to get small again, and Davesprite's holding your hand. It's easier to do whacky stuff when your cargo is touching you.

You walk into John's house. Nothing appears to have changed since you were last in here. You head upstairs and knock on John's door.

A sleepy grumbling noise responds.

“Well, he's making noise!”

“Jade, does that mean that you've checked on him several times over the past few days and he never once moved or made a noise? You're unbelievable.”

Your ears swivel back a little. You're not sure what he means. Whatever! It's time for John to WAKE UP!

“Jooooohn, we're coming in!”

More grumbling.

You open the door. John's lying on his bed, now on top of the covers instead of buried under them. He looks like he's shivering? And he's drawn a bunch of things on his walls. His dreamself used to do that, you remember. There are some new drawings, though… like bright green wolves.

“John you haven't moved for three days!” You stride inside and take a seat on the bed. John flips over and pulls in his knees.

“msleepn.”

“Joooooohn! You've been sleeping for the past 3 days!!!!”

He looks pathetic. His hair is a complete mess. He's like, 5 feet tall and chubby, which is absolutely adorable, except that he also looks like he hasn't taken a shower in a week.

He's also shaking a little. You reach out to pat his arm.

“Whoa, John, you're burning up! You did catch a paradox alien space bug!” You giggle.

“That was a joke, Jade.” Davesprite took his good time ghost-sauntering through the door. He slides onto the bed and puts a hand on John's forehead. “Gegus, dude. What did you _eat_?”

“nfin.” John makes a little hiccupping noise and tugs on the edge of a blanket. “lmme lone.”

“Do you want some, I dunno, ibuprofen? Or like, Niquil or something? Might help.”

John makes a little noise of agreement.

“I'll get em!” you say, leaping off the bed. You hurry to the bathroom and open up the cabinet… and then you spot the empty pill bottle on the edge of the sink. It looks like it was placed there purposefully, not just tossed around, but still, why would there be an empty pill bottle? Does John take meds?

You can't read the advanced jargon on the side of the bottle. It's just nonsense to you.

“I take it you don't actually know what to look for.” Davesprite slides in.

“No, I just-” you hold up the empty pill bottle. “I don't recall John ever saying he had prescription meds.”

“That… is definitely a prescription meds bottle.” His lip twitches. “And it's definitely empty.”

You frown. You put the pill bottle in the pocket of your hoodie.

“I'll get some ibuprofen and we can ask him about it later, yeah?” Davesprite says.

“Oh! Yeah. Let's do that.” You smile and head back to John's room.

John takes some ibuprofen and curls up against his pillow. You pull some blankets up over him and he snuggles against them. You smile at Davesprite and before you leave, you pick up the plate of (still untouched) food that you had left the day before.

 

John wanders out of his room the next day. He still looks kinda really sick but he's managing to stay upright, which is good! You make him drink a glass of water and mostly he just curls up on he edge of the couch and watches you and Davesprite play videogames. Another few days pass, and John's finally starting to seem better. You're playing videogames together when you realize you still haven't brought up the pill bottle _or_ seen him eat. You pause the game right then and there and poke him in the side.

“John have you eaten anything?”

He shrugs. “m not hungry.”

“That's a lie. It's been like a week since you ate anything! You should at least have some soup or something!”

“I'm fine, Jade.” He smiles, but it doesn't quite stick to his face. You notice that he's starting to develop darker spots around his eyes- not quite full on 'I haven't slept in 2 months' bags, but getting there.

“Come on, we're making some soup.” you grab him by the arm and drag him to the alchemizer on his deck.

“Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaade!”

“Nope! No complaining. We're making soup! It's SOUP TIME!”

You flip through the cards you have set aside for food until you find chicken soup and make two servings of the stuff. You hand one of the bowls to John, who plops down on the alchemizer and stares at you.

“It's good!” you say. Your mouth is full of soup. You knew it was good-- it's that great canned stuff you found in Dave's closet!

“It's canned soup.” John pokes it with his spoon and finally begins to eat it.

“I know! I love canned stuff! I never ate much of it back home. Or any at all really!”

“Hehe, Well I ran into it at school a lot. If you live in American society you immediately know _all_ about canned soup. Our family might have made scratch cakes, but a lot of our food came out of a container.”

“Dave said the same thing! Except he says that it was more like, getting pizza from the store and microwaving it. Except he says that he ate it cold a lot, because the microwave was full of smuppets. And he ate ramen noodle soup a lot, but i'm not entirely sure what that is.”

“It's just a Japanese noodle soup. Except that it comes in these easy packages sometimes and people eat it for that.”

“Japanese!” you giggle. “We have Asian relatives, right?”

“They were chinese, not Japanese. And technically we don't I suppose! We're ectobabies.”

“True.”

You get yourself another bowl of soup and you're through a third by the time John's finished the first one you gave him.

“You're gonna lose weight if you eat like that!” you say.

John mumbles something.

“What?”

“Maybe that's a good thing.”

“Hehehehe, John, you're worried about your weight? You're so weeeeeeeeird.”

“Don't you ever worry about your weight? You're a girl!”

“Nope! Come on, let's play videogames some more.”

He has to run a bit to keep up with you.

 

You wake up at some point. You're starting to have trouble telling what's morning and what's evening, but that's ok! You shuffle towards the bathroom to get ready for the day.

It's been about a month since John got sick. He still doesn't eat much but lol he can do whatever he wants. Davesprite is a worrywart! He's such a mom, he can't deny it. Momma bird!

(for some reason that insinuation upsets him so you stopped saying it to his face.)

You notice something white on your cheek as you're brushing your teeth. You reach up with one hand to wipe it off, but it doesn't budge. It's.. bristly, like…

Oh. Oh. No, you're not ready for this! Why is it white??? Bec? _You're gonna have white facial hair because of bec??????_ It's so noticeable against your dark skin. Fuck!

Part of your brain is telling you it shouldn't feel that way, either, but then again you're part magic space dog, anything can happen. You let out a little whine and quickly finish brushing your teeth. You're pretty sure John's cis, right? You can talk to John about this, right? You don't want to ask Davesprite, you don't even know if… You're not ready to come out to either of them but you're _sure_ John will be fine with it, and you're not so sure about Dave.

You've never asked John what his assigned gender is but with all the shaving cream lying around his house you're sure he'd know how to shave anyway. Even if he is cis, you're only 13, so he might not have that problem yet… fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. You pull your hood up over your nose and watch your ears fold backwards on your head.

Gog cringlefucking gegus you're such a _dog_.

Hehe gog dog.

You shuffle out of your room and down the hall. You planet-jump to John's house and stare up at the house. Oh god, you don't want to talk about this. You plop down on the driveway. It's too soon. You miss the days when it was just you and grandpa, or you and bec, and no one cared if you had a dick or not, and the only time you ever talked to your friends was online so it didn't matter. You wore skirts anyway, because you were afraid, you've always been afraid someone would see you and think you were…. You shake your head.

You're only ever gonna get more masculine and it makes you shudder just thinking about it. You wonder if there'll be a way to get hormones on the new earth.

You can't force yourself to get up and go inside and just tell him. But you don't need to, because the front door opens, and John looks out at you with a frown.

“Jade? What are you doing sitting on my driveway?” He pauses, takes a step forward. You swallow and pull the hood up further over your face. “Are you okay?”

It's been a few weeks since John got sick, but he's still not eating well and it's starting to show. He's lost at least 10 pounds. He's not underweight, and he still eats, so you're not worried (yet), but it's noticeable. He hurries down the driveway towards you.

“Jade, why are you covering your face? What happened.”

You pull your knees in closer as he kneels down in front of you. Your heart is threatening to leap from your chest, you're so so nervous, why are you so nervous?? Are you suddenly worried that Dad Egbert might have raised his son more bigoted than you think? You're definitely crying.

“J-john, I uh…” you swallow. “I'm trans.”

You said it. There. Oh god.

John's silent for a really long time and you start to shake.

“Trans as in… You want to be a boy… or….”

“John, im…. No, I'm a girl, I… John, I-I--”

“Woah, it's okay, shush, sorry, I--” He slides over next to you and puts an arm around you. A few minutes pass. You calm down.

“It's ok, but why tell me now? Why are you covering your face, Jade?”

“I uh. John.”

He waits.

“Can you teach me. Uh.” You swallow. “How to shave my face.”

John giggles. “Sure! I don't have hair on my face yet, but I know how to do it. My dad has instruction manuals! He was insane.” He's still giggling, but you can tell it's forced now. You wonder why. You sniffle and stand up. He follows.

John leads you into the bathroom of his house and shows you how to apply shaving cream. He doesn't have hair on his face yet but he goes through the motions for you anyway. He shows you how to hold the razor. “Pull it down, not to the side, unless you want to cut yourself.” He says. You listen, and you have to try a few times to get rid of all the little white hairs, but eventually you're done and you're so glad you talked to John about this.

You rinse off your jaw and examine it while John shuffles his feet in the doorway. You don't have too strong of a chin and you have big lips. You like your lips, they're cute. Your big green eyes and buck teeth stand out against your face, the only white against the deep brown of your skin. You kinda like the contrast though. It's good. It's like your aspect-- stars against space.

John's staring at his feet. For a second, you look at him-- it's hard to tell he's related to you. Your hair is huge and fluffy, your body large and hardened with muscle. John looks small and Asian with straight black hair which is actually darker than yours. You're still related, though! He's got the pacific islander in him somewhere, and you've got Chinese blood flowing through you as well. He might get taller. He's like five feet tall but he has time!

“John?” He still hasn't moved.

“Uh, Jade? Can I… paint your nails… or braid your hair.. or something?”

“Sure? Why?”

“I dunno, Jade, I'm a boy but… I like feminine things and…. I just don't get to….” He bites his lower lip rather hard. You frown.

“John, why would there be… I mean...”

“It's just, I'm afraid people will think I'm a girl just because.. I wear a skirt or paint my nails or something, I don't know!” He rubs his arms.

“John, do you honestly think I would be like that? That's toxic masculinity. You can paint your nails! I'll paint your nails! You wanna try on my makeup too? We could have a brother-sister party!” Your tail might just be wagging. “We could raid my stash and…”

John's still looking nervous.

“Hey. John. Hey.” You finally can't resist the urge to bend down and look into his eyes anymore. You get down on your knees. “Hey. John. It's ok to be a feminine boy. I mean, there are lots of masculine girls! They're still girls. They wear jeans and t shirts and cut their hair short and they're still girls, so I don't see why you couldn't do the opposite. Go ahead. Do your thing. Your gender is your business.”

He smiles at you.

That evening, you two mess around in your room, paint each others nails. You brush John's hair down (It's quite a challenge!) and pin it back with a big blue butterfly shaped hairpin you find. You fish out one of the dresses from when you were younger so he can try it on, but he decides he likes two piece outfits better. You don't blame him. You're glad your god tier is two pieces. He does, however, claim an old cotton miniskirt and refuse to let it go. It's black, and too big for him, but it's one of those things you can just wear everywhere and it has a waistband. You tell him he can keep it-- it's not your style anyway.

Davesprite bursts in at like 11:00 pm and finds John braiding your hair while wearing one of your denim skirts. He pauses in the doorway for a moment but then he demands you paint his nails.

“I'm trans too, you know,” he says, when you tell him your …. is it really a secret if you intended to tell people eventually? You don't know. “Dave, anyway. Pretty sure the crow part of me gives negative two flying fucks about gender.” Ehehe. _Flying_ fucks. “I wonder if your Dave is having similar sibling bonding time over his first period or growing boobs or something like that.”

You rub his back. “You're a different person, don't obsess over what you don't have. It's okay. Things'll work out.”

Davesprite smiles at you. John giggles, finishing the end of his braid.

“Welllll I don't know about you two, but I'm tired! Thanks for the skirt, Jade!” He scurries to the bathroom and returns a few minutes later in his god tier outfit. He puts the denim skirt (neatly folded) back on your bed and leaves.

You glance at Davesprite. He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Hehe, Dave, you're funny! But I'm actually tired too. It's like midnight!”

“I'm going, I'm going.” He gives you finger guns as he floats out the door.

You fall backwards onto your bed, and you can't help but think that everything's gonna turn out ok.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't had some of the experiences in this chapter so correct me if im wrong about them


	5. why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> why do you love terrible people when there's so much good in the world?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cold, dark sea  
> wrapping its arms around me  
> pulling me down to the deep  
> all eyes on me
> 
> i push you away  
> although I wish you could stay  
> so many words left unsaid  
> but I'm all out of breath.
> 
> so go  
> go  
> go  
> get out of here.  
> Go  
> away  
> get out of here,  
> go  
> go  
> get out of here,  
> go  
> away.

_I smile when you come near_

_ _

_but you shouldn't be around me_

_ _

_you say you love me_

_ _

_and its not that i dont believe you_

_ _

_but why do you love terrible people_

_when there's so much good in the world?_

 

* * *

 

 

_John._

_ _

_who?_

_ _

_who is this?_

_ _

_oh yeah._

_ _

_him._

_ _

_i HATE that guy._

_John, say something, please...._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DW there'll be a more text-heavy update eventually  
> my tumblr is bluemoonhound  
> my art tumblr is bluemoonhoundsart  
> :B


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